


SM Fic Train Part 9

by gemessential



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemessential/pseuds/gemessential
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short drabble; Haruka and Michiru in the shower post-battle. Dom!Michiru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SM Fic Train Part 9

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fic train on tumblr; other parts are linked at http://panegyrical.tumblr.com/post/98291758897/sm-fic-train-part-9

They arrived back at the apartment and stripped out of their senshi uniforms, which were now more or less bloody ribbons covering vital areas. They left them in a corner to dematerialize, Michiru pleased on an aesthetic level to see something so ruined fade away while knowing it would reappear in full glory the next time she transformed, and Haruka apathetic about the whole situation. She had tried to change her uniform years ago but whatever she added to it disappeared the next time she transformed and was lost in whatever dimension their uniforms lived in permanently. She had lost a treasured leather jacket and many bandanas this way and was beyond trying. Michiru had told her she looked dashing anyway in the uniform alone, and Haruka couldn’t deny the transgressive quality of a butch, muscled blonde woman of color in a short skirt and high heels kicking ass. The feeling of having makeup magically applied to her and having her legs forcibly shaved at each transformation challenged the boundaries of her comfort with gendered expressions of femininity. Her legs felt too smooth, too tingly and hairless. Sometimes she would leave behind little patches of blonde hair whenever she transformed depending on how long it had been, and Michiru would laugh.

Logically, she knew that Michiru really liked her presentation. Valued it, even, and was turned on by it. Which was becoming more and more relevant as they had just taken off all their clothes and now Michiru was brushing the tangles out of her hair with a mother of pearl hairbrush and surreptitiously trying to eye Haruka’s butt without her knowing. “Are you looking at my butt?” Haruka finally asked, after the situation could not be borne any longer.

“Of course,” Michuru answered.

“Hmm,” said Haruka, “and here I thought you appreciated me for my intellect.” Michiru rolled her eyes, turned on the shower, and stepped into it. She looked very beautiful in the shower, even with her hair plastered to her face and the makeup running and with cuts all down her legs.

“Wash my hair for me,” Michiru ordered, and Haruka did just that. As her hands were fisted in Michiru’s hair and her newly painted nails were massaging her scalp, Michiru closed her eyes and murmured, “You’ve been very good tonight. You deserve a reward.”

“I do?” Haruka said, quavering. She had stopped the motion of her hands on Michiru’s hair. Michiru’s eyes snapped open.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” Michirua asked seriously.

“N-no, please, I would love a reward.”

“Would you?” Michiru said, softly and dangerously. She shoved Haruka up against the wall of the shower, cold and clammy against her back, and kissed her fiercely. Haruka moaned. She was slick and wet in multiple ways and felt pleasantly overwhelmed by the heat of the shower and how quickly Michiru had shifted gears. Michiru was grabbing a nipple, twisting, and Haruka yelped.

“Michiru,” she whined. She could feel Michiru’s smile through her kiss as she gripped Haruka’s hair.

Michiru fucked her long and hard with her fingers, until they ran out of hot water and Haruka’s knees buckled painfully against the cold tile as she came.

 


End file.
